Music and gratitude

Lately I've been especially grateful.  Having my health care and benefits come through has expanded my horizons infinitely.  But it's more than that.  I am grateful for so many things.  I'm grateful for this time I get to spend with my family.  We're all getting together this weekend, starting with tomorrow actually, and I couldn't be happier.  Summer has finally decided to show itself and I am grateful for the warm rays of sunshine and the beauty of the natural world growing and blooming.  There is something truly amazing about watching the natural world unfurl itself before you as you watch crops grow and flower beds thrive.  I see divinity in this world, in me and in you.  It's glorious.

One thing that has been so important to me, for a long time but especially now, is music.  Having read Oliver Sacks's Musicophillia, I understand so much more of what music means to the brain.  We respond on a neurological level as unique individuals.  In general, playing musical instruments improves those brain neurological connections, particularly in the very young and the elderly.  MRIs actually show differences in brains of people who play instruments (even for a short time) compared to those who don't.

One thing I love is that our conception of music and the hold it has on our brains is so unique.  Some people can play symphonies back in their heads while others merely a catchy, simple melody.  I can hear symphonies, recall all the parts and instruments clearly.  I know my brain is better for it.

A couple of years ago I stumbled on an article in the AMA Journal about the effects of long term chronic pain on the brain.  Basically, it results in your brain not working as well.  It slows, stutters, and sometimes fits and stops doing things it could do before.  Memory and recall is difficult for me.  And it didn't use to be.

But I can still relate completely to music.  It is my salvation through pain, especially at night when I'm trying to sleep.  And I can still pick up lyrics so easily and I can still recall symphonies in my mind.  So I am grateful so much for music.  It is truly a special gift.

So I say

Thank you for the music, the songs I'm singing

Thanks for all the joy they're bringing

Who can live without it, I ask in all honesty

What would life be?

Without a song or a dance what are we?

So I say thank you for the music

For giving it to me

(ABBA)

Picture is of the dogs in the drain ditch a few days ago.

"I'm ready now, I'm ready now"

Taking back the power.  Re-introducing me to me.  It's a process.  And sometimes I'm kind of slow in processing.  But here are some things I've decided lately.  Consider it my cacophony of epiphany.

First off, I do what I want, when I want, and I go after what I want.  I'm the boss of me.  Also, I'm a pretty good boss.

Second, there is no more victim mentality, language, etc.  I was on the phone with a friend and I made this distinction regarding the things you believe in, the important things.  I said people shouldn't fight about them, we should fight for them.

That's what I'm going to do.  I'm going to go after the things I want with every breath in my body.  I haven't really done this in awhile because for so long the things I've wanted have not worked out or gone to shit.  I stopped having hopes and dreams because the disappointment is crushing and I thought if there were no hopes or dreams, then no hopes or dreams could be crushed.

In the spirit of my resolution to hope and fight and chase and dream, I've decided that I'm going for it.  I am going to put high hopes in my writing and my book.  I'm going to take a chance on love that might end in a disaster.  And I'm going to run, despite scoffs by healthcare professionals that being a runner again is not something I will get to do.

To hell with that.  Maybe I won't run tomorrow or in a couple of months or even a year.  But it's something I want and I'm going for it.  In that spirit, I've started putting together a new running playlist for my iPod.  I've got some Kings of Leon and Katy Perry and of course Lady Gaga and Beyonce.

I'm strong.  I forget that a lot.  I forget I'm a bird girl.

Note: post title is a reference from the Kings of Leon song, "Use Somebody".

Scars - warning of graphic content below

I remember the hope so clearly.  I'd had the trial for the intrathecal drug delivery device otherwise known as the pain pump weeks before.  Then there was my surgery.  And I've talked about the month after with the spinal headache and dealing with that nasty binder thing and not being able to swim or take a bubble bath or anything like that for a month.

But here is something new.  When you look at my most recent CT, which was about a year and a half ago, you see a lot of scar tissue surrounding the catheter that didn't make it into the intrathecal space in my spinal column as it should have.  There is also a lot of scarring where the actual catheter or tubing wraps from the pump that rests in the tissue between my lowest rib and hip bone on my left side.

I'm pretty focused on the scars on my side and my back.  I think they are hideous.  Well, the back one is not too bad but the front didn't heal in some nice, straight line.

It is my great hope that with my new healthcare coverage, I'll be able to get the pain pump situation figured out and I will be able to rock a new pump that continually disperses pain medication directly to the source.  But I have some worries.  After all, I am a worrier.  These are my worries: (1) how will the scar tissue inside my body affect the proper placement of the catheter; and (2) what will the visible scars be like?  Worse?  The same?

Below are some pictures of my incisions as they were healing.  Some may find the pictures icky.  I love them, but then again I am a blood and guts kind of person.  Gazer beware...

What's so great about early?

My mom says I should get more of my hours of sleep before midnight and get up earlier, claiming this is "better" and etc.  During the school year she and my dad get up at five so they can... I can't see anything necessary to do at five.  A friend gets up at four because he enjoys the sunrise and another friend regularly gets up at six because she is a morning person.

I am a night person.  And I'm not the only one.  For instance, I have two brothers who are also night people.  This is not simply because getting up after eight in the morning is desirable, but also because night is fantastic.

At night there are noises you don't hear during the day, maybe because your other senses are too busy with everything going on in the light.  But at night the velvety darkness encompasses secrets.  The temperature is cooler and the air smells better.  Also, I get really good alone time at night.

This morning I am up at five.  It is bullocks.  I'm mostly up at five because I went to bed around ten and then haven't been able to sleep well.  I cannot get and stay comfortable and pain and general discomfort keeps waking me up by the hour.  Even with my iPod to distract me from it.  So I'm watching the sunrise and frankly don't see what's so great about it and still find it depressing to wake up to dark.  Much better to wake up to a morning in progress.

I know with certainty now that I won't always be in pain like this.  I rejoice.  However, it still sucks right now, to be awake primarily because of it.

Picture is of a southern Idaho sunrise.  I didn't take one of this sunrise because I'm not going outside to do it.  I may be awake, but I haven't had any coffee or anything and a girl has her limits.

Inner mantra, outer glow

All day long I have had a smile on my face.  Okay, maybe not first thing in the morning, but I got up at like 7:30 this morning... way too early.  Lots of reasons for smiling today.  So I had to write again and list many of the reasons I'm smiling, which are all based on

Things I am going to do when I am better:

-Resume a daily yoga practice
-Cartwheels
-Other various acrobatics
-Dancing (and I don't mean my "white girl" dancing; I mean "shake it like a Polaroid picture" dancing)
-Standing to cook and clean and wait in line or whatever the hell I need to stand and do for more than like five minutes
-Sitting in movie theaters, on long car rides, on planes, in front of my computer writing
-More playing with the dogs, more Frisbee because it won't hurt so much
-If not running then walking really, really fast
-Swimming - serious swimming
-Gardening
-Sightseeing and traveling
-Going to classes - in person, not just online

I keep coming up with all kinds of things I will get to do.  I said the world seemed bigger.  The possibilities seem limitless.  The hope is unfettered.

And in gratitude, this is my prayer:

Om Namah Shivaya Gurave (I offer myself to the one true teacher within and without) Saccidananda Murtaye (In the forms of reality, consciousness and bliss) Nisprapancaya Shantaya (Ever present and full of peace) Niralambaya Tejase (Independent being, the vital essence of illumination)

Fully Favorable

It is still sinking in.  This morning I got a call from the attorney who represented me at my hearing way back in December.  She called to congratulate me.  She also said Allsup, the company helping me, will be calling next week to go over all the details with me.  I'm really looking forward to that because then maybe I'll find out exactly when my benefits start.  I am hoping to have a start date for my medical coverage soon because just as soon as I know that date I am calling to make doctor appointment and appointment.

Reading the decision was wonderful and I cried and cried.  But part of the tears had to do with facing reality.  You know by now that I do as much as I can to ignore this situation in general.  Sometimes it is easier than others.  The decision was also so validating!  I loved it when the judge referred to me as a "credible witness" and then quoted me (for example, the quotation "elaborate pillow system").  I wish I could adequately express what that validation means to me.

I need to go to town and buy some sparkling cider so we can toast.  Here's to getting better and here's to a real life and here's to a world that suddenly seems so much bigger.

The best news I've gotten in...

Today I finally got the judge's decision in the mail.  At the top of the letter, it read: "Notice of Decision - Fully Favorable."

I got my benefits!

Follow your bliss

I've written about this before so it should come as no surprise that I am a planner.  In absence of a plan I feel lost, adrift, befuddled.  Thus I have been seeking out a plan for some time.  I need a new game plan as I finally come to terms with my plan A (happily ever after with the man I love, etc) is actually over.  


You've read posts where I dither between this and that, trying to work out a Plan B.  And I convinced myself that what was practical was the best Plan B for me.  However...


“Le cœur a ses raisons que la raison ne connaît pas.”


Or...


"The heart has its reasons of which reason knows nothing." B. Pascal


Let me tell you where my heart is.


My heart is in brunch at Red Feather with bottomless mimosas and listening to Thomas Paul.  My heart is in watching the snow rise and recede on the foothills.  My heart is in Soul Food in Julia Davis Park and the Hyde Park Street Fair.  My heart is homesick and has been since I left Boise.  My heart misses Dr. Z. and his blunt diagnoses and the faith I can place in him so easily as a neurologist.  


Now let me be clear.  My heart desperately wants other things as well, a few of which I would travel any distance, climb any mountain, cite any cliche to attain.  But what am I going to do?  Sit around endlessly and let my destiny rest in the hands of others?  Decidedly not.  Time to bring back the power to every aspect of my life, be the person my sweet sister thinks I am capable of being.


I am happy where I am now, hanging out here with my family, and enjoying all the perks that brings.  I'll stay here for awhile.  But now I think I can sit back and enjoy it more fully because I have a Plan B.  It may work out, it may not, but for a planner all that really matters is the plan.


Above: "The Heart has It's Reasons" by Redon

Bullocks

Today was hard, much more so than I'd anticipated.  And even with my lovely Klonipin.  I had so much support and I am so glad I could go with my mom and gram and then meet up with my bestie and her beautiful daughters.

Today was awful.  But I'm really holding out for tomorrow being a lot better.

Denial and goodbye

All week long I've known that tomorrow, Monday June 21, I was going to drive to Idaho Falls and meet with my husband to get divorce paperwork signed.  I knew I needed to set up a meeting place, etc.  But did I do it?  No, of course not.  I basically did everything I could to keep the very idea out of my mind.  After all, I've been in  some pretty deep denial about getting divorced for quite some time now.

If I was to write a letter to express to him everything I was thinking and feeling, it would say this:

Dear Punk-o:

I would do it again.  I would marry you again, despite the pictures we have of my looks of sheer terror and you sweating it.  I would marry you again even knowing that we'd go through so much, so many really hard and terrible things.  I would marry you again even knowing this is how it would all end.  I will never stop being grateful for everything you did for me and taught me and the growth I experienced because of you.  It was you who helped me really love myself and that is an incredible gift.  I miss you everyday and I don't know if or when that will stop.  I miss our routines and rituals and all of your "you-isms".  I even miss you being a grumpy bastard.  Thank you for introducing me to indie rock and Trivial Pursuit and the sayings you got from your dad and the meals you learned to make from your mom.  Thanks for all of the good times and even the bad ones, too.  Thank you for being my husband and thank you for loving me and thank you for being you.

Love,
Me

Oh, I am so trying to remember that I'm a bird girl, and bird girls can fly.

The Glad Game

Today I am playing the Glad Game.  Not only do I need to steel myself for pending emotional stressors, but I also want to acknowledge things that are actually making me feel happier today.

I am glad for:

-My brother and SIL who came to hang out, eat dinner, watch Jeopardy and Burn Notice, and who made me happier just to see them
-Friends who listen to my incessant bitching and moaning and still take my calls and answer my emails
-Sorority Life on FB because it is super fun
-My obnoxious, filthy dogs who can't help but show me their enthusiastic love (even when that includes licking my face after munching on carcass)
-My family
-My mom cooking all the time, and lately my brother a bit, too
-Not having to feed those icky baby kitties very often - everyone else does most of the work
-My iPod and music in general
-Dexter - I freaking love that show, especially season three which I am on now
-The way my dad literally only eats pieces of things and then leaves the remaining pieces for later, even if they are only like a bite's worth
-My mom's social planning, hard work everyday, and her appreciation of Beyonce
-My siblings, even my brother I refer to as buttface and have tried to convince was his name for the first few years of his life
-The handbag my bestie made me for my birthday that I vowed I'd not overstuff and ruin, but am currently overstuffing and ruining
-My laptop, so I can write anywhere
-My bestie, especially as my editor lately
-My niece who refers to me as something between "Book" and "Bock" - I love it
-The sun that is shining today
-Silly fashion magazines
-Avocados and artichokes

What makes you glad?

Picture of my family on my brother's birthday on June 2

What happiness looked like, once

I don't want to get divorced.  I just don't.  Instead I want the imagined happiness I once had.  It seems so clear in retrospect that it wasn't the happiness I thought it was.  But in this midnight painful moment, I don't care.  I want the now roadkill dream.

What has hurt lately is that I have my recurring nightmares, but when I wake up I don't have my husband there, to just touch his arm or his shoulder so I knew I was awake and my nightmare was over.  Instead I wake up and don't know... anything.

Your heart can stop.  It can get get clogged - atherosclerosis can contribute to impaired blood flow.  But in reality it's the myriad nerves and brain matter that feels the heartbreak.  But when you feel that bottomless pit of sadness you can feel your heart ache like it will break in to pieces.  In reality it is of course the processing done in the amygdala and the hippocampal regions.

I wish science could heal the proverbial broken heart.  But there's no Lipitor for heartbreak.

I am sad this week,  I wish I could be something other than sad.  But the fact is, sadness permeates my every thought.

The combination of the emotional and physical pain feels insurmountable.  With my husband I always thought that no matter what happened, what befell us, as long as we were together, everything would be okay.  On my own, without him, I don't believe in happy endings and things turning out okay.  I just see a continuum of from bad to worse.

In my next post I will attempt the play the glad game.

Music soothes the savage breast

The smell of hay in the air and a song that helped me regain my peace.  Also maybe the Klonipin, but let's give credit to the music.

Click on the title for Guided by Voices singing "Hold on Hope" live.

Less hopeless.

Sweltering

Migraines happen when blood vessels constrict, inhibiting blood flow (and oxygen) to the brain.  I caught mine early today and took an Imitrex.  Thank you to the good folks at Glaxo-Smith.  But sometimes the cure is worse than the disease!  Or at least it feels that way.  The Imitrex makes me sweat buckets and the humidity from the approaching or receding storm is not helping.  I've drank at least two liters of water and crystal light.  I get so dehydrated!

But worse, I get cranky.

In my crankiness today, I am frustrated.  My mom tells me two things that I think are important, but usually let go in one ear and out the other.  First, she says I should take some time to heal this summer and not try to jump right into classes or moving to Pocatello, etc.  Second, she says I should consider my progress, and yes, she considers that I've had progress.

It just feels like I've been at a stand-still forever! What freaking progress?  So I can walk down the drain ditch.  Yippee freaking skippee!  Can I go back to work, go for a run, sit at the table without terrible pain?  No. 

I want some shit done and I want it done NOW!  

I feel hopeless.

"As Is"

"...and I've got
no illusions about you
and guess what?
I never did
and when I said
when I said I'll take it
I meant,
I meant as is"

Today I officially filed divorce papers.  It wasn't that hard.  And I feel pretty proud that I did it all myself.  I mean, my Gram took me to the notary and the magistrate court and stuff, but when it came to actually doing the paperwork and making the decisions required, I did it.  No lawyer.  Just me.

This may be sort of a duh moment for everyone else, but I wasn't prepared for how sad this made me.  It is this sort of deep ache.  Don't get me wrong, I really want to be divorced.  But what got me was the finality.  The dream of my future with my husband is over.  And I think that just might be the hardest part of all.  Missing him sucked.  Getting over not having our rituals sucked.  But letting go of what I believed would be the script for the rest of my life is the absolute hardest part.

I never expected sunshine, lollipops, and rainbows.  I never expected constant fireworks and I was in no way unprepared for the tough things, the hard.  All I wanted was the day-to-day companionship and happiness.  I wanted him and our marriage "as is".

So this Ani DiFranco song captures how I feel about my lost love and my future for love.

"You can't hide
behind social graces
so don't try
to be all touchy feely
cuz you lie
in my face of all places
but I've got no
problem with that really"

To see a really rough and shaky live performance, click on the title.
The picture is of me in Astoria, OR on the day I was married.

"Dexter" and faux chicken strips with Dijon

I've had this need to write something here all day.  But I seem to get stuck on the post title.  And there isn't really a theme.  this is more of a ramble.  More so than usual.

Right now it is about 8:15 on Sunday night.  I've spent a lot of time in bed today because I couldn't get even remotely comfy anywhere else.  I kept trying to fight it.  I'd lay down with In Style and then think I could get up a play with my dogs.  Ten minutes into that and I realized it was a no go, so I took a bath.  Then I tried to write for awhile sitting on an icepack.  Again, unsuccessful.  Three hours ago I finally decided to just get in bed and stay here until it was time to take my dogs for "last call" and then go to sleep.  It's been okay.  I finished disc two of season three of "Dexter".  I ate faux chicken strips and Dijon mustard.

Here's the perversity in my experience.  Sometimes I feel like not going anything at all.  Sometimes I'll watch TV all day and feel pretty good about it.  But when there are things I really want to do but find myself at an impasse, I get mad that I need to stay in bed and watch TV instead of doing them.  I really need to finish going through my credit report so I can finish up my divorce paperwork.  And I have a new (old) writing project that has been firing up my brain.

I've written before about that heart-racing reaction to pain.  I've been having that.  I finally took a Klonipin just to chill myself out and slow my racing heart.  So now I'm groggy and just watching the clock so I can take care of my dogs and then just call it a day.    Then I'll crawl back into bed, find something to watch on Instant Netflix or Hulu, and fall asleep distracted from what I really hoped my day would have been.

I've said it before and I'll say it again:

"Uncle!  Uncle already!!!"

Body Butter

Tonight I bravely applied some of my remaining Body Shop Cocoa Butter Body Butter.  I've written here before about scent being a memory trigger.  This scent always does.  It's so strong a memory that I remember not only where I was, but what I was wearing, the way my hair was cut, and the time of day.  I still love the scent and I love what the product does for my skin (which has been suffering lately due to the dry wind).  The memory still brings the ache.  I wonder when it will change to something a little less poignant.

I also wonder about another fragrance.  If in a few years I've changed my fragrance again and I no longer where Idole de Armani, will I some day smell it and remember the first time I wore it?  It was on a night out with the girls at Sam Bonds in Eugene.  I'd ridden the bus to the mall and then to the bar.  When I arrived I was freezing so I ate some Salmon Chowder and then felt guilty because of the whole vegetarian thing.  I drank Guinness that night.  It was a good night.

Today they cut the hay in the field across the road.  It smelled so amazing - sweet and clean and pungent.  Whenever I smell it I have to just stop and inhale.  It always reminds me of summer.  I have good memories and not so good memories.  The smell of the hay encompasses them all and reminds me I have lived.

"Check this hand cause I'm marvelous"

In the last two craptastic days I have come to a couple of conclusions:

1) Lady Gaga freaking rules.

2) There is a pervasive lie underlying much of my belief structure.

As for the first, her album "The Fame Monster" is completely fun and sort of lifts spirits and brings out the inner feisty girl.

As for the second, here is what I've learned.  I've always believed that if you want it enough, try hard enough, work long enough, and have enough hope, you will get what you want.  This might actually be bullshit.  Instead I think I'm with the Stones on this one.


"You can't always get what you want/
You can't always get what you want/
You can't always get what you want/
But if you try sometimes you might find/
You get what you need"

So here's the philosophical question that plagues despite hours of solace spent in the arms of pop music: Is what I need what I think I need?  Will I know it when I see it?  Oh, and will I want it?

July 2009

This morning I've been organizing my hard drive which includes organizing about a million gigs of pictures and downloaded digital scrapbooking junk.  That is only slightly hyperbole.  I was trying to figure out where I needed to pick back up for scrapbooking 2009, since I know I'm behind.  I was going through the 2009 folder and got to July 2009. 

There are so many wonderful pictures representing so many wonderful memories.  I remember the first week or two of that month as being a really happy time.  And when I look at the pictures I get this visceral reaction and I want more than anything those moments back.

Then I remind myself that the past is meant for memory and the present for living.  I may want the idyllic scenes Disneyfied in my memory, but all I have are pictures.  I get closer and closer to the point where that just might be okay.

Here are some greatest hits:

How am I feeling today?

Friend: How do you feel today?

Self: Not great.

Friend: Are you in a lot of pain?

Self: It could be worse.

Do you really want to know?  Do you really want details?  I didn't think so.

One giant leap for womankind

I love the Idaho Vital Statistics Department.  I ordered my birth certificate Sunday online and received it yesterday.  Now all I have to do is go get my passport photos (which will be the hardest part since I will probably put on make up and put product in my hair).  I am inches away from fully tackling the mound of paperwork in my life.  I even managed to get a straight answer out of Idaho State University and may be able to take some online courses this summer.

Today I may even finish editing my book.  If I don't screw around too much.  Anyone want to place any wagers?

True confessions of a moody and slightly sleepy woman

Ned Flanders : Homer, did you steal my air conditioner?
Homer : I know it looks bad Flanders, but he who is without sin casts the first stone
(Homer gets hit with a rock)
Rodd Flanders : I got him, Dad.
 
Today I am overwhelmed and underwhelmed.  I am impatient and frustrated.  I am freaking moody!  I've been spending my day screwing around to avoid (a) thinking in general and (b) working on things I really need to get done.  Unfortunately (a) is required for (b).  But let's not get into some Kantian logic here.
 
Before we go any further, I have a couple of confessions to make:
 
1) I've been listening to a lot of sappy, top 40 crap that is doing little else than fueling said moodiness.  It is helping me sleep, so there's a good justification.  But Vivaldi would help me sleep and I wouldn't walk around humming trash all day.
 
2) I worked on my book yesterday, editing like my fingers were on fire.  Now I feel stuck because I am ridiculously happy with what I've written so far and how the editing process is going and I'm continually sabotaging myself with self-doubt and this horrific self-criticism. 
 
So I am moody writer.  Everyones' favorite party guest.
 
But I've been kicking ass on getting my paperwork done.  I still have to comb through my garbage pile of a credit report and fill in the last bits of the online divorce forms.  And Idaho State University has stopped jerking me around on getting admitted to their school so I might just be able to take summer courses after all.
 
But I'm moody and a little sleepy and therefore kind of grumpy and I am considering just casting stones for the fun of it.
 
Click the title for a truly sappy song stuck in my head (I place the blame on the bestie who sent it to me on a mix tape)

Take back the power, baby!

My brilliant sister inspired me.  It's time to empower myself.  So today is a day that is primarily about kicking ass.  Birth certificate ordered.  Passport paperwork completed.  Divorce paperwork about 80 percent of the way there (pending my credit report which has proven more difficult to obtain than my husband's).  I found out that once I get the paperwork filed, I could be divorced in as few as twenty days.  Twenty days! 

You know, I thought I'd been a little more sentimental over this.  The divorce paperwork required the official date of our separation.  I listed August 3, 2009.  Do you know how long we've been separated? 

-Based on a 360-date equation, we've been separated 304 days. 

-That is 84 percent of a year. 

-In 54 days we will have been separated for one year.

Forgive me, I haven't been able to flex my statistician muscles in a long time.  But you get the picture.

And here's the thing.  I know exactly what I want in life now.  I don't want any barriers.  So cheers!  When I get some official government stamps on official government paperwork, drinks are on me.

My playlist for sleeping

Sleeping is tricky for me.  I've started sleeping with my iPod again.  And I have a new sleepy-time playlist.  It is sappy, sentimental pap but it gets the job done.

"It's a Man's, Man's, Man's World" - Glee Cast
"Need You Know" - Lady Antebellum
"Defying Gravity" - Glee Cast
"I Can Hear Music" - She & Him
"And So it Goes" - Billy Joel
"Save the Best for Last" - Vanessa Williams
"Life After You" - Daughtry
"Hello" - Glee Cast
"Show Me Heaven" - Maria McKee
"I'll Follow You into the Dark" - Death Cab for Cutie
"I'm on Fire" - Bat for Lashes
"Take on Me" - A.C. Newman
"Like You'll Never See Me Again" - Alicia Keyes

"Today I didn't even have to use my A.K. I got to say it was a good day"

Today is a beautiful day.  I took the dogs for a walk this morning first thing and with my new friend, Dogtra, they were remarkably compliant.  The air smelled lovely and it was just the right amount of cool and warm.

Last night my brother drug me out of the house to go play pool with him and some friends.  I'm terrible at pool.  But it was fun and mostly I appreciate him caring about me to eject me from my all too comfy homebody routine.

This is going to be a great week as I have purpose.  Over a week ago I finished my book.  Then I had a mandatory week-long hiatus from even looking at it, no opening the file, nada.  Now I'm cracking that sucker open and tearing into.  I feel better when I'm writing.

This week I am getting a copy of my birth certificate, a divorce, and a passport.  I'm waiting for a few important things in my life, endlessly waiting, such as the judge's decision on benefits.  But that doesn't mean I am powerless over everything in my life (I think my wise sister had to point that out to me for me to get it).  Also, she has a passport and I always think it is terribly cool when she uses it as her ID.  But then again, she is terribly cool to begin with...

I'll end with a quotation:

"My mind rebels at stagnation. Give me problems, give me work, give me the most abstruse cryptogram, or the most intricate analysis, and I am in my own proper atmosphere. But I abhor the dull routine of existence. I crave for mental exaltation."
Arthur Conan Doyle

An existential hypothetical

Imagine if you will, that you spent your energy and effort building a life and then in a wave it was wiped out.  Or a series of waves.  Then you decide you are a phoenix.  You start all over again, with only the bare materials inside yourself.  You work hard and you build a good life, a satisfying life.  You grow, you change, you learn to roll with the punches.

Once you get on your feet, you start making plans and setting goals.  In a truly linear fashion, you pursue step by step those milestones you know you must accomplish on your way to the overarching goal.  And while you are at it, you develop little habits and patterns.  They're comforting, you sleep next to them, wake up to them each morning, and cherish them each day.  You know where you're going and even though you may not be making all the progress you'd like, you at least know you are on a path.

Then imagine in you will, that you wake up one morning, out of the blue, and realize none of it matters.  All of your carefully laid plans and your lofty ideas are merely the sprig of parsley garnishing a plate you realize has so much more to offer than garnish.  What if everything you thought you wanted is turned on its head?  You have a rough idea, but not really a clue about what to do or think or believe.

What then?  At what point will the stunned stupor turn into action or consequence?  When you've just determined nothing in your life matters as much as you thought it did, where do you go next?  And how do you chase something if you are not even sure it really exists?

Click on the post title to listen to "Defying Gravity" from Glee!

Dogtra 1902

Tuesday I received a much awaited package via UPS.  I haven't been able to use it much due to the overwhelming BS of a pain situation.  But I've tried it a few times and it is wonderful.

Before I go any further, let me assure you a couple of things:

1) I used this on myself first

2) I used it on my brother as well (which was hilarious)
3) I haven't turned the juice up nearly as high as I used on myself or on him

Introducing... the Dogtra 1902, doggy "electronic training collar" otherwise known as a shock collar.  It is a lovely two dog system.  It has a 1/2 mile radius, is waterproof, and both my remote and the two receiver collars are rechargeable.

So far it has been very effective.  And it has to be.  I can't have those dumb dogs chasing cars or playing in the horse pasture... among other terrible things they get themselves into.  This may well be considered a turning point in my life and I am pretty excited.  I'll keep you posted.

Insulated monologue

Sunday morning I was taking my dogs for a walk and I stumbled on a slippery patch on the drain ditch road and I fell.  If you've read this blog for a bit, you know this happens a lot.  The nerve pain is destabilising.  So I've had some rough pain days of late.  Especially today.  The only time I could get comfy was in bed.

We had a birthday celebration for my brother this evening.  It was fun.  We roasted hot dogs and BBQ tempeh for the vegetarians (me mostly).  We played "Just Dance".  We roasted marshmallows and sat by the fire pit and talked.  But a lot of the time I was thinking, "This is great, but when can I get back to bed and my brand new Sealy pillow?"

My inner monologue has been incessantly disparaging the pain situation and I really just want it to just shut the fuck up!

From my friends and family to my therapist, I've been urged to talk about it.  But when I can't stand it, how could anyone else?  And I think I've been reaching out.  Trying anyway.   I think I've put more of myself out there with this blog than I had pretty much ever before.  But I feel so isolated.  I need someone to cuddle up with me, wrap their arms around me, spoon with me, and get it,  I mean really get it.  And as supportive as everyone is, you don't get it.  You don't, but I appreciate you all trying.

In the last months (what like nine of them?) I've gone through that range of emotions associated with grief.  And I thought, so fatalistically, that I wouldn't love someone again.  Like a shot of lightening I realized that I was wrong. 

So what is the point of these ramblings?

I've found something else I want, something else I need.  Something I will try for just as I try to survive the pain, the lack of health care, and the loss of so much.  It isn't like me wanting a new Mac or wanting season 2 of Fringe to never end.  This is something deep in my soul I hunger for, hunger like the starving.  But unlike the starving, not just anything or anyone will do.

Here's to figuring it out, to discovering what you need, and here's to the quest to attain it.

"Don't stop believing"

Today I spent hours reading my past posts for this blog.  I'm going to shut it off now.  This has been nothing short of overwhelming.  

Years ago during therapy I started dealing with my PTSD issue.  The medication I'd been prescribed was freaking awful and so I decided to focus on the therapy aspect of recovery.  My brilliant counselor explained to me that anytime we go through a traumatic event, an event that overloads our systems, our brain has a fail safe that shuts down.  You can get through the event and you can even forget about it.  It's almost like it never happened.  But if did happen and eventually when you get to a safe place in your life, your brain just dumps in on you.  The result can be symptoms of PTSD - flashbacks, nightmares, etc.  I got good at a sensory technique to rescue me from the scariest of flashbacks; you say out loud senses connecting you to the present, "I smell my car's air freshener, I feel the seat belt on my chest, I see the lines painted on the road, I taste the coffee in my mug, I hear the music on the radio."

When I read my life as detailed on this blog, taking in months at a time, I cry for the me of the past.  Even just reading about life in Eugene and comparing it to life now is overwhelming.  I am doing so much better here.  At some point I think I will look back and be grateful for the strength gained and simply being able to get through it.  But from this vantage point, I'm scared.  I don't want that history encroaching upon my present.

"Love, angel, music, baby"

Ever since the other night when I posted about not being able to sleep due to an over-active brain, I've decided to use my iPod to fall asleep.  It works really well and if you remember, I've used it to overcome the pain issues when I try to sleep.  I'm glad I discovered it again.

But here's the weird part.  I used to listen to slow, soft, soothing music like Julie London or Antony and the Johnsons.  Now I'm listening to Lady Gaga and Ke$ha.  And somehow, despite my urge to stand up in bed and dance, I fall blissfully and quickly asleep.  Sometimes I wake up in the morning with my iPod near the bottom of my bed.

My guess as to why this works (despite all reason to the contrary): my brain locks on to the songs and gives up the effort of thinking deep thoughts.  It is in this effortless, wonderful place I can drift off to sleep.  Now if I could just control my dreams... that would be the cherry on top.